


Behind Closed Door

by simpleandpure22



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Artistic Liberties, Borussia Dortmund, M/M, Sexual Content, durmann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:52:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4157673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpleandpure22/pseuds/simpleandpure22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonas meets Erik again after a long time in Bad Ragaz, but Erik's behaviour confuses him. One moment he's warm, the next moment he acts like he doesn't care. Jonas can't stop wondering why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Closed Door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dortmundbvbbabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dortmundbvbbabe/gifts).



> For this story I'm back to my more ~~masochistic~~ angsty root :D Whilst my last two one shots have been fun to write, this is the style that I love the most for my Durmann works. I don't know, there's just a certain melancholy in them that is both sweet and fleeting, which I really love. This story also has more adult content than my previous works, because I wanted to try to come out of my comfort zone and challenge myself.
> 
> There are a few liberties I took for the sake of the story, like that Jonas misses the first part of the new season preparation, and the Asian tour. I really hope he doesn't, though, in real life :)
> 
> This is especially for Dortmundbvbbabe, who likes this kind of angsty work as much as I do, and for Blue_Night who seems to enjoy this pairing more and more ;)

“Hey, Jonas.” Jonas turns around and smiles as he sees the person who greets him. Mitch pats his back and gives him a quick hug. “You look good, mate.”

“Thanks, Mitch. So do you.”

Because of his rehab Jonas had to miss the first part of the pre-season and the Asian tour, but at least he now can join the training camp here in Bad Ragaz. He can’t wait to be back in the team and be able to play again. His loan in Mainz didn’t go as he would like it to, but it’s no use crying over spilt milk. The most important is that he’s back, and he’s ready to start over.

Familiar faces begin to come one by one, and it feels good to see them again. It’s weird though not to have Kehli here, and Klopp, as well as Peter and Željko. The four of them have been around since Jonas came to the team. It’s going to feel different without them on the pitch. But that’s how it is in football; people come and go all the time. Jonas supposes that he’ll get used to it eventually.

He has met the new coach and talked to him a little bit. So far, Jonas has mixed feelings about him; he’s hoping that Tuchel will recognise his potential and gives him the chance he should get a long time ago, but on the other hand there’s always a possibility that he won’t. There are still a lot of people who are fighting for his position—players who are both good and experienced. And since last season was pretty much non-existent for him, the odds are already not in his favour.

But, he’s not fucking going down without a fight, that’s for sure. He’ll just have to try his best every single time. The rest is up to the coach.

The smiling lady in the reception gives him the keycard to his room and tells him that he’ll be roommates with Erik. Jonas thanks her and heads to the room. The thought of seeing Erik again is something he has been looking forward to. It has been a while since Jonas last saw him, and of course he misses him. They’d been really close prior to Jonas’s loan to Mainz, since their time in BVB II. But in the back of his mind, Jonas can’t shake off the fear that their relationship won’t be the same anymore.

Things change, people change; no matter how much he wishes otherwise.

In the room, he unpacks his clothes and neatly places them in the wardrobe. He’s a bit nervous as he waits for Erik. _Come on, it’s Erik._ Why should he be nervous about meeting Erik? But, no matter what he tells himself, the feeling won’t go away. So, when the door opens whilst Jonas is still standing in front of the wardrobe, his gaze immediately darts at the door.

Erik enters the room, dragging his suitcase behind him. As his eyes meet Jonas’s, his face breaks into a smile, a smile that’s both familiar and reassuring. Jonas feels warmth in his chest as he smiles back at his best friend.

“Hey,” Erik says.

“Hi, mate,” Jonas replies. Erik leaves his suitcase and walks towards him. Jonas instinctively opens his arms just as Erik pulls him into a hug. All his worries begin to fade. It feels like hugging the old Erik. Maybe he has no reason to worry; maybe nothing has changed between them. Erik strokes Jonas’s hair with one hand, burying his fingers in it. Jonas doesn’t know how long they stand like that. The wardrobe door is still open, and Erik’s suitcase is carelessly neglected in the middle of the room. Slowly, Erik pulls back and Jonas can see his eyes.

Something flickers in Erik’s eyes; something Jonas can’t decipher. But it disappears as quickly as it appears. Erik smiles at him briefly before walking back to his suitcase. “It’s good that you’re here, Jonas. How was your summer?”

Jonas is a bit taken aback by the behaviour change. One moment Erik is still warmly hugging him, a moment later he’s unpacking his suitcase and asking him in a light, conversational tone, like nothing has happened. “It was okay,” Jonas says after a second. “A lot of rehab, but I’m glad it’s over.”

“Yeah, at least you’re back now,” Erik says, but he’s not looking at Jonas. He’s still busy fiddling with his clothes. It feels odd, but perhaps Jonas is reading too much into it. Erik probably just wants to be done unpacking as soon as possible.

“I’m going to have a quick shower, if that’s okay with you. Or do you want to use it first?” he asks Erik, who shakes his head.

“No, I’ll do it later after dinner.” Again, Erik’s eyes are still fixed on his clothes.

Okay then. Jonas grabs a towel, a t-shirt and pair of tracksuit bottoms before heading to the bathroom. He won’t start to worry again, but something is different about Erik, although he has no idea what it is. He thought Erik would be more thrilled to see him—like how Jonas was looking forward to see him the whole summer. And how could Erik change in literally a second? From a warm hug to a passing, conversational tone. Jonas doesn’t understand.

He’s debating with himself if it’s too soon to ask Erik about it but can’t seem to find the answer, until he’s done showering and puts his clothes on. When he’s back in the room again, Erik’s suitcase is standing in the corner of the room, and the blond is nowhere in sight. Jonas can’t resist opening the wardrobe and he sees Erik’s clothes, which are all neatly folded, next to his own. The familiarity of the sight somehow brings a small smile on his face.

Jonas takes a pair of slippers from the bottom of the wardrobe and closes the door. He’ll just go the dining room and talk to the others. Maybe he’ll even find Erik there. If not, he can always talk to him later, now that they’re in the same team again.

During dinner Jonas doesn’t have the chance to talk to Erik, because the blond is sitting with Matze and Neven on the far side of the long table. Jonas himself is sitting between Mitch and Papa, with Sven and Nuri on the other side. Jonas is only half listening as they’re talking about their summer. He answers each question they ask him, without really involving himself in the conversation. Perhaps the four of them think that Jonas is tired or not in the mood for a chat, because they don’t ask him much anymore.

It gives Jonas a chance to glance at Erik every so often; although the blond doesn’t even look at him the whole dinner. Jonas can’t suppress the disappointment that begins to creep through him. This isn’t how he thinks their first day together will be. But he sucks it up and tries to put up a smile as Sven tells his experience of watching an F1 race in Canada.

He doesn’t see Erik again until he comes back to their room later that night, because Jonas can’t resist Sven’s invitation of playing FIFA with him and some of the guys. He asks Neven about where Erik is, and Neven says that he was back to the room almost immediately after dinner. Jonas pushes the thought about Erik to the back of his mind and tries to enjoy the game. He misses this, too. He misses the laughter and curses, and how they always find excuses if they lose.

When he returns to the room, in the dimmed light from the lights outside, he can see that Erik is asleep in his bed. Jonas tries not to make any noise as he walks to the bathroom. And later when he slips under the covers only in his boxers, he turns to look at Erik.

Jonas can’t really see the other boy; just the outline of his body under the covers, and his blond hair in the dark. Although their encounter isn’t like what he imagined it to be, Jonas can’t help feeling slightly contented to lie this close to Erik again. He watches Erik until his eyelids feel heavy and he closes his eyes, letting sleep and the exhaustion of the long day claim him.

~*~

A soft sound wakes Jonas up. At first he feels a little disoriented, but then he quickly remembers that he’s in the training camp in Switzerland. The digital clock on the nightstand shows that it’s a bit over three o’clock in the morning. Was it Erik he heard? He turns his head to look at Erik just as the blond lets out another incoherent sound which can be a combination of a sigh and a moan.

Is he having a bad dream? Jonas shifts to the end of his bed, closer to Erik. “Erik?” he calls softly.

Erik stirs in his sleep. “Yes… yes, like that. Feels good…”

…Right. It’s definitely not a bad dream. Jonas blinks, and after a second he turns away, feeling like he should give Erik privacy. It’s not the first time he caught his friend having a sex dream, and probably Erik has seen Jonas when he was having his as well. Normally, it doesn’t bother him. But this time he can’t explain why his face feels hot, and there’s a twitch under his navel, which isn’t something he’s supposed to feel.

Jonas lays his head back on his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. _Get a grip, Jonas._ He shouldn’t have such inappropriate thoughts about Erik—his best friend. Yet, the thought of Erik touching himself under the covers sends an unfamiliar sensation to Jonas, and before he realises his hand wanders down his body.

He is hard.

 _Fuck. No_. Jonas tries to pull his hand back, but it’s like it has a mind of its own. He bites his lip to suppress a moan when his palm presses against the front of his boxers. No, he’s not going to do this. Furiously, he pulls his hand back and grabs a fistful of the sheets. He can feel himself twitch painfully, and he bites his bottom lip harder.

In the other bed, Erik lets out another moan, completely unaware of Jonas’s struggle, “Oh, yes… Jonas…”

Jonas’s eyes shoot open, and he freezes. Did Erik just say… his name? No way, he must have heard him wrong. His mind is messing with him.

“Jonas… yes, right there…” Erik whimpers, slightly louder this time, followed by a breathy moan.

It’s like someone has poured icy water all over Jonas. His entire body feels cold. He can’t believe that it’s only a few minutes ago that he felt like his body was on fire. _God, no._ This can’t be happening. Erik is having a sex dream about _him_.

How the fuck is Jonas going to face him tomorrow?

~*~

Jonas doesn’t know how long he stays awake, trying to block the noise Erik makes. When he opens his eyes again the sunlight streams through the curtains, and he has to blink a few times to adjust his eyes to the light. Erik is gone, and his bed is made. Jonas feels slightly relieved that he doesn’t have to see Erik now.

After a quick shower he joins the others for breakfast, and Erik is nowhere to be seen. Someone—Kevin—tells him Erik has had breakfast earlier and he’s now going out in a bike before the morning training session. As he’s chewing on his bread, Jonas can’t help wondering if Erik is avoiding him. And if last night was the first time Erik dreamt about him. If not, are the dreams the reason why the blond seemed to distance himself from Jonas yesterday, too, after the hug in their room?

There are so many questions in his head; questions that need to be answered. But at the same time, Jonas isn’t sure if he dares hear the answers, because they may—will—change everything between him and Erik. Is he really prepared for that?

During the training sessions, Jonas finds it hard to concentrate. His gaze keeps flickering back to Erik, who seems to vow to ignore Jonas. Does Erik always run his hand over his hair like that? And why didn’t Jonas notice how beautiful his hair looks in the sunlight before? When Erik laughs at something Gonzalo tells him, Jonas feels a tug of some sharp, unpleasant feeling in his chest. They already look close, and he doesn’t like the way Gonzalo looks at Erik. He feels sick in his stomach watching the older man hug Erik, despite the hug being playful. Jonas quickly looks away. Why should he bother anyway?

His lack of concentration is reflected in his bad performance, earning him two stern warnings from Tuchel. Yeah, so much for wanting to impress the new coach. Mats gives him a sympathetic look, approaching him during one of the breaks. “Are you and Erik having a fight or something?” he asks.

“No.”

“Then why are you avoiding each other?”

Jonas lets out a sigh. “I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “It’s complicated.”

Mats is looking at him with his deep, brown eyes. “You should probably sort it out with him soon. Don’t let it affect your performance.” Jonas can only nod half-heartedly. Seeing his distress, Mats doesn’t push him further. He pats on Jonas’s shoulder before walking back to the pitch.

Jonas’s mood doesn’t improve when he’s paired with Gonzalo for one-on-one stretching. Gonzalo is new in the team, and Jonas knows he should be more patient with him. But he fucking can’t. The image of him and Erik smiling at each other is still fresh in Jonas’s mind. So, when Gonzalo makes a second mistake in the last ten minutes, Jonas snaps, “It’s not hard to remember the order. Do they do things that differently in Leverkusen?”

Unluckily for Jonas, one of the assistant coaches hears him. “Hofmann, that’s enough,” Benjamin says firmly as Jonas and Gonzalo glare at each other. “Castro, go train with Kampl and Reus. And you,” he looks at Jonas, “can train with the ball on your own until you can learn not to snap at your training partner.”

Feeling deeply embarrassed, Jonas nods and strides to the side of the pitch where the balls are. Such a great first day of training, isn’t it? When he’s doing a bit of dribbling he feels that he’s being watched. He looks up and sees that Erik is looking at him. Jonas expects him to look away as soon as their eyes meet. But he doesn’t. So, after a few long seconds, Jonas is the one who looks away.

This is so fucked up. How can things change so much in less than a year? Jonas doesn’t need this shit in his life right now. He trains with the ball absently, until Benjamin calls him, pairing him with Papa. The rest of the training passes in a blur, and Jonas is relieved when it’s finally over.

~*~

He’s still exhausted that after dinner he goes straight back to his room, politely declining Auba’s offer to play table tennis. Mostly because Gonzalo, and probably Erik, will be there, too, and Jonas isn’t in the mood to see them giving each other sickening smiles.

Erik’s behaviour confuses him. What’s going on in his head? Did he flirt with Gonzalo to make Jonas jealous? And if so, why did he do that? Does it mean that Erik… has feelings for him? That will explain the sex dream… and the way he moaned Jonas’s name.

But Jonas doesn’t see Erik like that. He’s his best friend—nothing more. _Fucking liar,_ a traitorous voice in his head says, _he turned you on last night._ Oh, please, it doesn’t mean anything. Jonas isn’t even sure that he’s into boys. He has dated girls before, and he has never been attracted to boys. But Erik… he nearly got himself off whilst listening to Erik’s soft moans. How fucking wrong is that?

And now all the thoughts have made his head hurt. Jonas lies down in his bed and closes his eyes, still fully clothed. He can’t deal with any more of this today. He doesn’t know how long he has dozed off when he hears the door being opened.

Jonas hears muffled footsteps and then a voice—Erik’s voice—saying, “Jonas? Are you okay?”

As much as he wants to pretend to be asleep, he can’t do that to Erik. Jonas slowly opens his eyes and finds Erik standing next to the bed, looking down at him. “I’m fine,” Jonas says. “I’m just tired.”

It doesn’t sound convincing, even to his own ears. Erik is still looking at him. “You’re not fine. Why don’t you just tell me what happened? Why did you argue with Gonzalo?”

Hearing Gonzalo’s name is the last thing Jonas wants. He sits bolt upright and says, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking why he was eye-fucking you all day?” sounding harsher than he meant it to be. “Do you even dig him at all?”

“He didn’t eye-fuck me. We were just talking.” Now Erik has raised his voice as well. “Why is that a problem for you anyway?”

Jonas opens his mouth, but there’s no sound comes out. Yes, why is that a problem for him?

“Are you jealous, Jonas?” Erik asks softly, after a second of silence.

Jonas can’t answer that, because he has no idea. “I… I don’t know,” Jonas murmurs. “Probably.“ He pauses, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

Erik sits down on the edge of the bed; his eyes never leave Jonas’s face. “It’s okay.”

Jonas can’t take it anymore. Before he can stop himself, he blurts out, “I heard you talk in your sleep last night. You were moaning… my name.”

Erik’s eyes widen in horror, and it confirms all the suspicion that Jonas has. The blond rises up, but Jonas hastily grabs his wrist, keeping him from leaving. “Erik, please. We need to talk.” When he’s sure that Erik won’t flee, he releases his grip.

“Please, sit down,” Jonas says again. The blond does what he asks, a deep blush grazes his cheeks, but nevertheless he stares back at Jonas. “It wasn’t the first time you were dreaming about me, was it?” Jonas asks.

Shaking his head curtly, Erik replies, “No.” Jonas’s mouth feels dry. What should he say to that? Erik takes a deep breath and then says in a quiet voice, “I can’t remember since when. But it has been quite a while.”

The silence that follows feels suffocating as they are busy with their own thoughts. “Is that why you avoided me yesterday? I thought you seemed happy to see me when you hugged me, but then you changed just as quickly,” Jonas asks, breaking the silence. “Because you didn’t want me to find out?”

Erik raises his face to meet Jonas’s eyes. “I was so close to kissing you yesterday. If I did, you would freak out, and things would be awkward between us.”

Jonas nods absently. “I probably would.”

“I’m sorry,” Erik says with a sigh. “I didn’t mean you to find out like this.”

“No,” Jonas quickly says. “It’s not your fault.”

Another silence. Then Erik asks about the thing that Jonas has been dreading to think about, “How do you feel about me, Jonas?” barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Jonas starts, looking at the closed curtains, before averting his eyes back to Erik. “I mean—I don’t like the way Gonzalo looked at you. It makes me want to smash things. But you’re—“ he pauses. “You’re my best friend…”

Instead of replying, Erik shifts closer and gently places both his hands on each side of Jonas’s face, pressing their foreheads together. It feels good, and comforting, and for a moment neither of them dares move. Then slowly Jonas feels a brush of Erik’s lips against his own, just a little… not close enough for his liking.

When Erik’s lips stop moving, Jonas impulsively tilts his head and presses his lips against Erik’s. If Erik has any hesitation, it doesn’t last long. He parts his lips, letting out a gentle moan as Jonas licks his bottom lip; the same moan that sent a sensation to Jonas’s lower body last night. And it still has the same effect today.

There’s something desperate and almost frantic about the way Erik kisses him. His hands roam all over Jonas’s body as he whispers against Jonas’s jawline, “God, I’ve wanted this for so long…”

As a reply, Jonas tugs at Erik’s shirt, urging him to take it off. The blond does it before clawing at Jonas’s t-shirt and then trousers. Soon, Jonas is on top of Erik in his bed, straddling him. Through the material of his thin boxers, he can feel that Erik is just as hard as himself. Jonas rocks his hips, eagerly looking for more friction. The movement elicits a string of curses from Erik’s parted mouth.

“Jonas, please...”

Jonas opens his eyes, looking down at Erik under him. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes dark with lust; he looks so fucking beautiful. Jonas has never wanted anything more in his life. But as his hands travel down between their bodies, stopping at the waistband of Erik’s boxers, he hesitates. This is it. Once they cross the line tonight, everything between them will never be the same again. Is he willing to risk their friendship for a moment of insanity?

Erik must have sensed his hesitation, because he places his hand on top of Jonas’s and says, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Jonas leans down to kiss him before saying in a husky voice, “I want this.” He runs his hands all over Erik’s warm body; desire has won over logic. Erik responds by lifting his hips, to make it easier for Jonas to takes his boxers off. And soon they are skin on skin.

They switch position, and now Erik is on top. When he feels Erik’s fingers curl around his rock-hard length, Jonas groans against Erik’s neck. Erik lowers his head and brushes his tongue over a nipple, making Jonas squirm impatiently. If Erik keeps the pace like this, Jonas isn’t going to last long. But even in his thick-clouded mind, he doesn’t want it to be just about him; he wants Erik to enjoy this as well.

Without thinking, Jonas reaches down and wraps his fingers around Erik’s most sensitive part, brushing on the tip with his thumb. He’s soon rewarded by a loud whimper from the blond’s mouth. “Oh, oh… Jonas, please!”

Jonas is so fucking close, and when Erik tightens his grip whilst moaning his name once more, it sends him over the edge. He clutches on Erik’s shoulder, trying to muffle his moan by biting on his bottom lip, his breathing shallow as his body shakes uncontrollably.

When he’s back from the high, Jonas opens his eyes and Erik is watching him. It takes a moment for Jonas to register that Erik is still hard. Jonas suddenly feels selfish, it’s like he’s using him. “It’s okay,” Erik says softly, seems to understand what Jonas is thinking.

“It’s not.”

Jonas cradles Erik’s face, pulling him down and kissing him, pushing his tongue in between Erik’s full lips. He takes Erik’s length in his hand and begins to stroke him, determined to make it all about him this time. “Do you like it like this?” he whispers against Erik’s lips.

Erik seems to struggle to form a coherent sentence. “Yes… fuck, yes…”

“Come for me, Erik.”

That’s all it takes for Erik to come undone; his warm fluid splashes over Jonas’s fingers onto his chest, mixes with his own. Erik flops down on top of him, looking exhausted. Jonas lifts a hand and gently caresses his hair.

They stay like that for a moment, enjoying their proximity. Jonas wants to remember this feeling. He doesn’t want it to end, but he knows that it can’t last forever. When the stickiness on his body begins to feel uncomfortable, he softly suggests to Erik that they should clean themselves up. Erik seems a bit hesitant, but he nods. They head to the bathroom to take a quick shower, before slipping under the covers.

The bed isn’t made for two people, but Jonas doesn’t mind. He likes having Erik’s body pressed against his like this, Erik’s head lies in the crook of his neck, feeling Erik’s warm breath on his skin.

“What’s going to happen next?” Erik says, after some long seconds of silence, barely above a whisper.

Jonas doesn’t know, nor is he ready to think about the consequences of what they’ve done. He wishes he could promise Erik a happy ending, that everything will work out just fine between them. But he can’t. He doesn’t know what will happen tomorrow. He doesn’t know if the new season will be better for him, if he’ll be able to claim his place in the team at all.

“I don’t know,” Jonas says truthfully, moving his head to place a kiss on Erik’s damp hair. “But let’s worry about it tomorrow.” He places his hand on Erik’s face, stroking the blond’s cheek with his thumb.

“Tomorrow,” Erik repeats, sounding somehow contented with Jonas’s answer. “I’m sure we’ll be fine, though,” he adds.

If he says it like that, Jonas can _almost_ believe him. He wants to believe him. “We need to sleep, Erik.”

He feels Erik nod against his neck. “Goodnight, Jonas.”

Jonas can easily get used to this, to the warmth of Erik’s body beside him, to the way Erik’s fingers move delicately across his chest. It’s a dangerous thought, but logic has long abandoned him.

But at least Jonas knows that he’ll sleep much better than yesterday. He pulls the covers a little higher over both of them and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not that smutty, but for me it was still challenging :D I hope you like it.


End file.
